


Nos Venit

by Katie_Dub



Series: The Covid Chronicles [2]
Category: Fleabag (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Dub/pseuds/Katie_Dub
Summary: I haven't had a best friend since Boo, not until a cool, sweary Priest came into my life. There was one time that I thought we might be more, but God apparently sent him a sign and so we're just friends. Good friends. Best friends. Best friends who have always had a weird, flirty sexual tension that would've long ago become more if one of us weren't celibate. And now we're quarantined.We'll last a week.
Relationships: Fleabag/Priest (Fleabag)
Series: The Covid Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729906
Comments: 11
Kudos: 107





	Nos Venit

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended to be part of a larger canon divergence, where they they were interrupted before their kiss in the confessional and were never more than friends, but I figured we could do with a little light relief right now. With thanks to the Good People of the LSS Group.

"Are you OK?" he asks. I laugh, it's not funny. 

"No I'm fucking not OK!" I burst out, "I need a fucking drink!" 

"I can get you a drink." He smiles, problem solved. And this makes me suddenly, irrationally furious. 

"I want a _proper_ drink! I want to go to a bar and have some mixed drink maestro or whatever those tossers call themselves make a drink and charge me an obscene amount for it!

"I want to see people again, to have a friendly chat with someone in the cafe. I want a fucking awkwardly polite conversation with a shop assistant. Fuck me, I even want a passive aggressive verbal sparring match with Godmother!

"I want to be touched again. I want an uncomfortable hug from Claire. I want to bump into someone in the street. I want to be crammed against sweaty commuters on the bus. I want to have my arse pinched by some dickhead and slap him for it. I want to have sex." 

I could honestly cry just thinking about it, but now I've started, I don't seem to be able to stop myself from talking about what I really want. What I _need._

"I want to see a stranger across a room and just know that I'm taking them home and ripping their clothes off as soon as possible. I want to have an orgasm from someone else's hand on me, or their mouth, or cock, or even their fucking sex toy."

This reminds me of that night in the confessional when I unburdened my soul to the Priest. Back then he got to his knees before me and wiped away my tears so gently and reverently that for a minute I was sure - so fucking sure - that he was going to kiss me. But then a painting crashed to the floor, he helped me to my feet, gave me a tender hug and sent me home. 

I'm not actually crying now, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

"Fuck knows I can't even use my vibrator anymore because I feel weird using it in God's house - or His extension - or whatever else you might call your rectory. And I'm too worried that you'll hear me getting off when you're not allowed to come because your church decided that your God, who fucking invented orgasms according to your Book, doesn't want you to have them. 

"I want to kiss so-" He cuts me off with his lips pressed against mine. For all the fire he came at me with our kiss is brief, over in an instant. He pulls back and studies me, licking his lips and taking my face in his hands. 

_I want you so much,_ I think as I look at him. _Please touch me, please._

As if reading my thoughts, he leans in for another kiss. This one starts off gentle, but soon dives into an open-mouthed, passionate meeting of lips and tongues and teeth as a year's worth of friendship, foreplay and fucking feelings drive us to all but consume each other. 

I wrap my arms around him, tangling my fingers into his hair to hold him tight against me. One of his hands drags along my jawline to cup the back of my head, leaving a tingling trail in its wake that is so real, I swear it must leave a visible mark.

An intense feeling of something glorious begins right in the middle of my chest, overwhelming me in a way that I've never felt before. When that pleasant _something_ is joined by the burning of my lungs, screaming at me that while kissing is great, oxygen is pretty fucking essential, I pull back from his lips the tiniest amount to catch my breath. I gaze down at his lips, utterly gratified by the way they continue to move for a moment once I'm out of reach.

He opens his eyes and happiness shines out of them for the briefest moment before they are filled with concern, his brow crumpling adorably.

"Oh God, what's wrong? I - I'm so sorry, I just -" He pulls away - or tries to - I anchor my fingers in his hair, holding him close to me. 

"Nothing. Except the fact that you've stopped kissing me."

"But you - you're crying." As he says it I realise that his thumb caressing my cheek is indeed dragging moisture across my skin.

"Am I?" I'm genuinely confused, so I loosen one hand from him to wipe at my cheek, marvelling at the tears I can feel there and gazing down at the tears glistening on my fingers when I pull my hand away. 

He releases me, stretching his neck to move out of my grasp and shifting back to place his hands in his lap. I follow the moving, noting with interest the now prominent bulge in his trousers.

My eyes flick back to his. He's looking every bit as puzzled as I feel, with a dash of hurt and a generous side helping of touching - if unnecessary - worry. "But this is the happiest I can ever remember feeling," I say earnestly. I take his hand in mine and place it against my chest. "I just feel so - so _much_ \- in here. And - fuck it now I know why dad finds expressing himself so hard. I don't know what this feeling is."

"Is it a good one?" he asks.

"The best," I confirm with a nod.

His face turns from confusion to devilish delight in a split second. "The best?" he echoes me and I know he's got something delicious in mind.

"I mean, we can try the kissing again, just to be sure?"

He shakes his head slowly. "Oh no, I've got plans for you - " his hand slides across to my breast, pressing in " - and your gorgeous tits."

"Would you call them gorgeous?" I say, aiming for matter of fact, when his questing fingers find my nipple and begin to gently pinch at it, teasing it to hardness. 

I stifle a gasp, he smirks.

"They're a little on the small side," I say. 

He drops his hand. I immediately regret my self-deprecating bullshit and gulp at the instant pain his small rejection causes me. I drop my eyes down to my lap.

_Stupid twat, fucked one best friend by fucking her boyfriend, fucked another by trying to fuck_ him _._

His hand gently lifts my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Hey, where did you go?" 

"I -" I shrug, I hate how small my voice sounds "- I'm sorry for reminding you how small my tits are." I try my best to avoid looking at him, childishly deciding to just close my eyes.

He laughs and it hits me like a gut punch. My eyes fly open, I'm ready to fight. 

He backs away, hands held up in a "don't shoot" gesture. "Look, just because you don't love your tits doesn't mean I can't," he says defiantly, and lowers his hands. "I can love them enough for the both of us, I just wanted to get a proper look at them. Really get my hands on them, you know." He's unconsciously made a gesture of cupping my breasts that makes me laugh and immediately all tension between us is gone. Well, the angry tension, that buzzing "oh my god, we're going to have sex" feeling is definitely back.

"Father, are you trying to get me naked?" I gasp in mock horror.

"Yes, didn't I make that clear?" he laughs then sits back thoughtfully. Something shifts in his gaze sending him from adorable friend to hot sex god in an instant. "Now strip," he growls the words at me, and that feeling in my chest is back.

"What will you do for me if I do?" I tease.

"Worship you." He's entirely sincere, his voice gruff, and now a far more familiar tingle of arousal has appeared alongside the growing _something_ in my chest.

"Will you kneel for me?" I was aiming for more mischievous teasing but my need is so great that it comes out as breathless anticipation. If that's how good he was at kissing my lips then I may not survive him kissing my cunt.

"Yes, but first, I told you to strip." It's a clear command. His tone brooks no challenges, and I find myself moving without even consciously deciding that I want to play sub to his dom.

I stand before him wishing I wasn't just in the ridiculous guinea pig pyjamas he bought me for Christmas but something that would drive him wild with desire. I have to hope that my moves alone do it for him, so I slide my hands down to the hem of the top, tucking just my finger tips below it and revealing my skin so slowly I'm even annoying myself, but damn it's getting me horny.

I haven't even got my tits out when his patience runs thin. "Seems like you're asking for trouble, torturing me like this. Move faster or I will have to punish you."

"And what if I want you to punish me?" I challenge him.

"Move faster and you'll enjoy your punishment as much as I do. If you carry on defying me, I won't kneel for you." 

I swear I've never got my tits out faster.

"Gorgeous," he says, "come closer."

I'm still wearing my pyjamas bottoms and for a split second I freeze, unsure whether to carry out his first order or his second first. Throwing caution to the wind, I straddle him. 

He immediately takes my nipple into his mouth and bites down on it. I feel the tug all the way down to my core, groaning in pleasure as he carefully, deliberately sweeps his tongue over me, soothing the sharpness of his teeth. He releases me, moving across to administer the same treatment to my other nipple. 

There's a gentle edge to his rough play that speaks of many, many previous encounters spent figuring out exactly the right balance between pain and pleasure. I almost wish I knew him before, we would have had so much fun together.

He pulls me flush to him and breathes into my ear. "That wasn't your punishment, I needed that. And so did you." 

_True story._

He smacks my arse, a little too hard to be playful, taking me completely by surprise. I startle, pulling back to look at him in shock. 

"When you're with me, I want you here with me, please." His words start out commanding, but quickly turn to pleading. "If you don't want this, you can tell me. It's too much isn't it?" 

"I can honestly say that if I have ever given you reason to believe that I wouldn't be into someone treating me like a dirty little bitch in bed, then it was unintentional. I mean, not saying that I always need someone to call the shots, but you know that I want to be told what to do, well that's _especially_ in bed. It leaves my mind wonderfully free of all the hurt and stress and confusion of real life."

"You want me to bring you peace?" 

"I do."

"Take everything off, sit on the sofa with your legs spread wide for me." That glorious dominant edge is back in his voice. I more than happily comply.

I half expect him to tease me after my little display, but he drops to his knees and just goes to town. He's licking and sucking at my cunt like a man who's stumbled upon an oasis when he's dying of thirst.

He hooks his hands under my hips, clutching at my arse and hoisting me off the sofa and closer to his mouth. 

God it's a fucking crime that he swore off sex, the things that he can do.

I look down at him, finding it hard to believe that this is real, needing the sight of him between my legs to confirm that this isn't just a fever dream. He looks up at me through his lashes, and I find myself gasping at the sheer intensity of his gaze. He's the one finding every spot to drive me completely insane and yet his eyes are filled with lust, and his face is flushed like he's the one getting the best oral of his life. 

He closes his eyes again and groans against me, and the feeling of his desperation against my clit is almost too much, making me jerk away from him. He kneads and caresses my arse, holding me to his mouth and forcing me to take the overwhelming sensations that are quickly spiralling out of control. 

The pressure is back in my chest and now it's joined by a fast-growing need in my cunt. My muscles tighten near painfully as he brings me ever closer to finding the peace I need in a deep, all-encompassing bliss. 

I grab hold of his head, to hold him close, desperately pulling at his hair as I close my eyes, vaguely aware that I'm moaning and swearing and screaming his name as everything in my being has shrunk down to the feeling of him on me.

I feel that last desperate build up of pressure that signals the impending arrival of a life-changing orgasm, flinging my head back against the sofa and waiting for bliss.

He brings his hands around to the front of my thighs and roughly shoves me away from his impossibly talented mouth and pins me down.

"What the actual fuck?" I gasp, furious that he's wrenched free of my grip. I'm sure I must have pulled some hair out, it's no less than he fucking deserves. "You forgot something," I say bluntly. 

He smirks and rocks back on his heels with a low chuckle. "Patience is a virtue," he says simply. "And you're paying penance."

I cannot believe he has the nerve to say that to me when his face is practically dripping with my juices. 

"You said that you'd worship me," I say dumbly, my throbbing clit draining all wit from me. 

"And don't you feel worshipped?" he asks, "adored? Can't you see how fucking much I love you?" The sex god has given way to my adorably soft friend. "God help me, I've tried so hard not to love you, to love you as just a friend, as a father but I just - I - I can't. I love you." He looks so sad, devastated even as he licks me from his lips, and my heart aches for him. "Why can't I quit you?" he whispers.

I'm tempted to ruin this with a killer put down. It's what I do, after all, but I can't. Not when this confession has taken so much from him. Not when he's finally given me words for that feeling in my chest.

"I love you too," I say, "now make me come before I explode."

"Can't have that," he says with a laugh. "You'd ruin the carpet, Pam would be furious."

Before I can let rip my thoughts on where Pam can shove her high and mighty attitude, he scoops me off the sofa and lowers me to the floor tenderly, kissing me slow and deep.

The sudden fear I have that despite his exemplary oral technique and dom tendencies he might be a boring missionary man is quickly squashed as he flips me onto all fours and leans his whole body over mine and sucks on my neck for a moment. "Next time we're doing this in front of a mirror so I can watch you come," he says, while he nibbles at my ear, his cock thrusting into my hips.

I hear the clink of his belt, the zip of his fly and the rustle of his trousers as he drops them. 

The anticipation is agonising, when I feel his cock circling my pussy, pressing into me.

He's gentle at first, tender and loving as he gently pushes his cock into me. I tighten my cunt around him, just to get a rise out of him. 

"Oh fuck you," he says. 

"That's the general ide-" He slams into me, and wastes no time in fucking me hard and fast. He has one hand on my hip, the other pinching at my clit. After his earlier denial I find myself teetering on the brink of orgasm with alarming speed. 

"Please let me come," I say, desperate to reach that climax this time. "Please just let me, please, I need it. _Please"_

He slams his cock into me one last time coming hard into me as he gives my clit a hard pinch. And I'm unravelling, feeling that buzz of peace as I babble "thank you, I love you, I fucking love you."

He pulls me up close to him, arms around me and murmurs into my ear, "I love you," A shiver of anticipation runs through me. I try to turn to look at him, limp and lazy in his arms. "I love you too," I say before slumping back into him, finally at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, stay safe people. If I can brighten your day with Fleabag fic, especially if you're quarantined, drop me a prompt over at tumblr [@katie-dub](https://katie-dub.tumblr.com)


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